


In the Darkness, I See

by ginsky



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gareth!Eggsy, Hurt/Comfort, I mean SLOOOOW BUILD, Light Angst, M/M, Mentor and Protégé, Mission Gone Wrong, POV switch, Slow Build, hurt!eggsy, protective!harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginsky/pseuds/ginsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His protégé swallowed, eyes rolled a bit, but didn’t move from the ceiling. “…can’t see,” he murmured under his breath, voice lost and confused and barely audible, yet every word was soaked in desperation.</p><p>“I can’t—I can’t see, ‘Arry. I CAN’T SEE!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I wrote too much fluff...so, a tad angst? Just trying to write some good hurt/comfort. I'm still exploring:)

 

The irony is, despite the sheer quantity of all kinds of things happened on that day, Harry couldn’t quite name one that was actually done by _his_ hands. He seemed to play no part on anything going on that day, simply an outsider who happened to be led into the peaceful eye of a storm, arranged to watch everything around him smashed to pieces from the front row without risking a scratch on his face. It was kind of like peeping into a bee hive, an ordered chaos, a deluge flooded into a certain direction while the current underneath roaring and tearing at each other. Harry simply watched from afar, never a part of it.

He was reading a report, or talking to Tristan, or drinking tea with Percival; one of those things, he couldn’t remember. All he remembered was that he was sitting on a chair when Merlin pushed through the door like a hurricane, face iron-still but paler thanwall, told them there had been an attack against Kingsman agents fourteen minutes ago, during which Gareth and Lancelot got caught in the crossfire and both went down. And he only remembered this because he remembered the loud bang of the back of his chair hitting the floor after he jumped up and knocked it down, the sound dull and loud, echoing through the walls like a clash of gavel, rapping the whole room into dead silence.

They were unprepared, caught completely off guard. The two agents had already been delivered to local hospital before Kingsman had chance to take things over. Both agents were on their day off, therefore weren’t under surveillance from HQ during the attack, and Kingsman only knew about the attack because Lancelot informed them through a _public_ landline from hospital.

The reception area was a mess when they arrived. Clearly this was not meant to be an assassination; massive civilian casualties’ also involved. Patients and medical staffs running around like crazy, shooting and taking orders; people were bleeding on the seats, crying in the background, with someone somewhere screaming about a gun fight.

They found Lancelot down the aisle, sitting alone on a plastic chair. The young agent was bleeding on an arm, a nasty cut sprawled on her face from the corner of mouth to her temple, and the front of her suit was soaked in blood. She stood up swiftly the second she laid her eyes on them, so no major injury, it seemed.

“They took him upstairs,” she opened her mouth as soon as they came into hearing range, “wouldn’t let me go in with him.”

Percival asked “what happened” the same second Harry asked “which room”. The girl started leading the way immediately; they have to push their way through the crowd. Percival walked in front of them in long strides, glared at anyone who dared to come in their way, tall and strong and formidable in that black suit like a silent bodyguard.

“We were having lunch,” Roxanne began in a low voice once they left the main room, “then suddenly someone started shooting. We didn’t know who they were—I didn’t bring my gun,” the girl swallowed, voice shaking on the edge, “we were outnumbered. They ambushed us when we tried to get out. Eggsy tried to cover me, but someone caught him. They started fighting, and—and,”

“Jesus,”Merlin mumbled through the glasses, “and what?”

Roxanne took in a deep breath through her nose. “There were too many of them.” She whispered, voice small but stable, “a man shot Gareth and threw him out of the window.”

Harry didn’t have time to panic. Not now. “How high?”

The girl’s jaw twitched. “Third floor.”

They reached the room finally. Harry pushed open the door with great strength, it hit the wall in a deafening bang; everyone in the room jumped at the clash. There were only two of them: a doctor-looking man, and an assistant nurse.

“What are you doing!” yelled the nurse, pulling down her mask in anger, “you can’t be here!”

Harry walked right past her, ignoring the indignant protests shooting at him from behind. There he was—GaryUnwin, his protégé, lying lifelessly on a medical bed with a ventilator covering half of his face. He was paler than the sheet beneath him, all color drained from his face, leaving an unpleasant grey in its place…except for the deep crimson dried on the side of his head. Harry pulled the respirator up from his mouth and threw it away to examine the boy’s features beneath.

“What are you— ** _stop!_** ” someone exclaimed from behind, a hand came to grab him on the shoulder, “who are you? You cannot—“

A soft whoosh, then a dull thump. Standing opposite Harry, the doctor’s eyes widened dramatically over his mask; he only had time to let out half a yell before another dart hit him right on the neck. The man touched his neck, face confused for a second, then went down without so much as a sound. Harry hold up an arm to block his unconscious body from collapsing down on Eggsy; Percival quickly took over the body and lay the doctor on the ground.

The boy looked even worse without the respirator. Harry never saw him this…emotionless before. To say that Eggsy Unwin was an open book would be a major understatement. The boy seemed to bleed emotion out of his every pore all the time. And now he wore that expressionless mask, face stone-hard, eyes squished shut, almost like he’s angry about something. Harry touched his protégé under the chin, the pressed the back of his hand against his cheek to feel the body temperature. “Merlin,” he said.

The answer came through his glasses in a split second. “Medical team’s already on the way.”

Harry turned to look at his colleagues. Percival was nowhere to be seen, so were those two unconscious medical staff. Roxanne was still bleeding, a hand clutched tightly at her arm, lips pressed together into a thin line. “You should go see someone for your wound.”Harry said.

“No. I’m fine.”The girl answered immediately, “I’d rather stay here.”

“Galahad is right,” Percival agreed, coming in through the door alone, clearly had ditched two other people somewhere secrete on his way, “go, Lancelot. Galahad and I will take care of Gareth.”

“No,” declined Roxanne again, voice tight and unwavering, “with all due respect, I’m not going to leave until—” her eyes suddenly widened at something, “Eggsy!”

Harry’s attention snapped back at his protégé. Eggsy, sometime during their conversation, had indeed opened his eyes. The boy blinked slowly, once, twice, before his instinct kicked in. he began to struggle, and all the devices around them went off screaming at the same time as if having a yelling competition.

Harry pressed a hand on his chest, tried to hold him down as gently as possible before the younger man hurt himself, but Eggsy only struggled harder. Percival took a step forward as if wanting to help, halting in his track when Harry held up a hand to stop him.

“Eggsy!”he tried, “stop!”

The boy snapped his head at Harry upon hearing his voice. He searched Harry’s face, eyes wide with fear. Then he blinked, frowned, looking away slowly, as if trying to find something else that’s familiar.

Something was off. Eggsystopped struggling, but acted like he didn’t recognize Harry. Muscles around his voice cord clenched, Harry tried to draw back the boy’s attention; he failed, Eggsy simply wouldn’t look at him. And he hadn’t said a single word since he woke up yet, which was also alarming.

“Eggsy? Can you speak?”

The boy finally turned his eyes back at him, only not quite. He stared at a spot a little over Harry’s left shoulder, like looking at Harry physically pained him. It could be memory loss, or even amnesia…head injury brings about complications all the time. What the boy said next only deepened his worry.

“Ere’ am I?”

At least he had no problem speaking. “You are in local hospital,” Harry replied, watching the other man closely, “but we are going to take you out of here in about twelve minutes.”

Eggsy seemed to have trouble processing this information. He looked everywhere, eyes wandering over the whole room, running after some invisible distraction. Harry’s heart dropped into the bottom of his stomach.

“Eggsy? Do you remember what happened?”

His protégé frowned, face still soaked in confusion; but to Harry’s great relief, he nodded. “Yeah,” Eggsy mumbled, “I was…I was having lunch when they came in, shooting at everybody. Roxy n’ I tried to—Rox!!” his breath hitched in his throat, “oh God, Rox! She was—”

“I’m here,”Roxanne answered immediately from aside, “I’m right here! I’m good, Eggsy.”

Instead of relaxing, the boy’s face went curiously blank. “Yer good,” he repeated, “yer‘ere…”

He kept staring up at the ceiling, with that bizarre blank expression, as if couldn’t figure out what the heck was he doing lying there. Harry knew something was wrong, very wrong. “Eggsy? Are you in pain?”

His protégé swallowed, eyes rolled a bit, but didn’t move from the ceiling. “…can’t see,” he murmured under his breath, voice lost and confused and barely audible, yet every word was soaked in desperation.

“I can’t—I can’t see, ‘Arry. **_I CAN’T SEE_**!”

 

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delaying...

 

“So,” said Harry, voice smooth and calm, an expressionless mask over his face to conceal any hint of emotion flowing beneath, “this is only temporary, correct?”

“It could be,” the other man allowed, casting his eyes down to scan through the screen of his digital pad at an alarming speed, “Head injury is complicated, and we’re still not sure what triggered the loss of his sight in the first place. I’m merely suggesting there seems to be no physical damage with his eyes—not severe enough to cause blindness, at least—so the possibility stands, theoretically speaking. The chance is that his vision may come back if—”

“So this is temporary,” Harry cut him off, “good.”

A muscle near Merlin’s jaw twitched, but his company didn’t—or pretended not to—notice. The man’s full attention fixed on the motionless young man lying on the bed between them, examining and assessing every feature of that body with the same level of concentration as he walked into this room three hours ago. Merlin followed his gaze.

Eggsy Unwin looked like he just got dragged out of hell.

And in some sense, he did.

The young man lied unconsciously under the cover, wrapped in layers of bandages like a cocoon, stitches crept over his skin as a reminder that this body was once broken then sewed up. His face was curiously blank, pale to the shade of grey. They had decided to remove the ventilator mask after the first 10 hours, but the tube needed to stay. Right now it crawled over the young agent’s face, sinuating down his throat in an extremely unnatural and unnerving way. Knowing it was there to help the young man breath, Harry resented it nonetheless.

Eggsy Unwin had remained like this for the last 18 hours, which was way beyond Harry’s tolerance. Eggsy should be awake by now. He was not in a coma; doctor confirmed he was conscious through part of the surgery before they had to sedate him, and regained his consciousness shortly after. Harry was not allowed in the room during that time, though, and Eggsy had been sleeping ever since his arrival. It’s absolutely unacceptable; Harry needed to speak to him.

Merlin put the pad under his arm. “Come on, Harry. We need to go. He is in good hands.”

Harry knew. Kingsman settled for nothing less than the best when it came to the welfare ofagents. He should go with Merlin. The man was right, they had places to be, business to attend to. Yet Harry couldn’t bring himself to move. He had this strange feeling burning lowin his stomach, nudging and warning, whispering to him it would somehow be a failure should he choose to leave at this moment, before Eggsywoke up and saw him there.

“I’d like some time with him,” began Harry, “alone, if you could excuse me.”

Merlin’s bottom lip curled up in disapproval, but to Harry’s great relief—and great surprise, the man didn’t argue. “Make it short, then. We are supposed to meet Arthur in seven minutes.”

“I will be there.”

“Try not to be **_too_** late.”

“I won’t.”

“So you’ve said every time before.”

Merlin left. Harry turned his attention back to his protégé’s lifeless body, waiting patiently until the last knock of his colleague’s footsteps faded away before sitting down on the only chair beside the bed.

“Eggsy,” he opened his mouth, butwasunable to proceed after speaking the name. He fell silent, spent a long minute just sitting there, deliberating, weighing every word in his mind like they weren’t to be trusted, or it actually made any difference which kind of vocabulary you pick when talking to an unconscious man.

One of Eggsy’s hands, the left one, Harry noticed, was not covered under the sheet. Two of his fingers slipped out of the cover, curling limply over the edge of bed. The young man’s whole body was covered, either under the sheet orunder the bandage, with only this tiny area of skin exposed in the air. The room was by no mean cold, and the cover was not there for heat preservation anyway, but for reasons still unknown, those exposed fingers bothered Harry greatly.

He waited a few seconds before taking the younger man’s hand in his own. Eggsy’s fingers were cold against his palm, skin dried and rough, stretched tensely over delicate human bones. Harry brushed his thumb over those split knuckles, lowered his head, almost like he was going to bring them to his lips, but caught himself at the last second. Hefroze, then straightened up in the chair, but didn’t let go.

He held on to the hand for a while, sat staring blankly at Eggsy’s fingernail, buried deep in his own thought, as if drifting away into some daydreaming. Then something startled him out of this strange hypnotic state; Harry blinked a few times before glancing down at his watch.

He had one minute left. And he could already feelthe silently judging look—which would definitely be there waiting for him once he set foot in the debriefing room—ghosting over his back.

Harry put Eggsy’s hand back, then pulled the sheet over it. “Be better,” said him at last, nodded curtly at his nonchalant listener beforestood up.

He left in a hurry,too occupied thinking about getting to his destination in time, therefore didn’t glance back before he walked out of the door. He should, though; and if he did, he would never have missed the way the younger man opened his eyes silently after he took off, left hand slowly curling into a fist.

If only he looked back.

***************************

Of course. For all the time Harry managed to stick himself at the young man’s bedside, standing tall and looming over like some awkwardly misplaced lamppost, Eggsy had to wake up during his scarce absence.

He got delayed by working on some details of the attack. He was not the only one; it seemed like the unexpected assassination had become the sole center that every Kingsman agents revolved crazily around. There had never been intentional attacks against out-of-mission agents before, which meant there was probably a leak in the confidential file of agent identities. Everyone was working their ass out trying to pin this attack to any organization, anyone; they even pulled back some agents who were still in field at that time. But the investigation hadn’t brought them anywhere so far, considering how little they knew about the attack, with no footage of recording tape and one of the agents involved under constant medical care.

Harry was only late for about twenty minutes for visiting time, and then he walked into the ward to an empty bed. For a second, all blood in his veins ran cold. Dozens of horrible thoughts and their even more dreadful alternatives burst out in a split second, roaring in his head and squeezing the air out of his lung.

He grabbed a nurse walking by on the elbow, with too much force judging from the painful shriek the girl immediately let out. “Where is him?”

“Wha—what?” the nurse stammered, eyes wide in confusion and a hint of fear, “who?”

 _For god’s sake._ “EggsyUnwin!”

“He—he was taken away by Arthur,” answered the girl,hand pressing on her collar bone, “I don’t know where.”

Harry frowned. “When? How?” he pressed on, “did he wake up?”

“Yes. The patient woke up about forty minutes ago.” The question seemed to bring the professional part out from the nurse, she let down her hand with a determined look on her face. “I need to retrieve my logging sheet should you want to know the the exact time. Now, please let go of me, sir.”

Harry did. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, blinking slowly, “I…overreacted.”

Eggsy was fine. Harry let out a silent breath, but his relief didn’t last long before unease took over again. His boss never really liked Eggsy, and never really tried to hide this dislike. On principle, Arthur had no obligation to report his schedule with Eggsy to Harry, but considering they had just stayed in the same meeting room for over ninety minutes, the leave out of this piece of information seemed suspiciously on purpose.

Harry mentally steadied himself. “Do you know where did Arthur take him?”

“No. He didn’t give us any information beyond that he needed to inquire Eggsy Unwin some questions about the attack.” The nurse’s lips pressed into a thin line, which resembled Merlin on a disturbingly high level, “he was suggested to finish the inquiry here in the ward, but he insisted on privacy. He promised to bring EggsyUnwin back in an hour; the patient was not physically recovered to be up and about, we still need to run a few tests on him.”

Private inquiry about the attack. Which was even more reason for it to be suspicious. Harry bit on the inside of his cheek. “I would wait here, then,” he opened his mouth after a few seconds, “since they are supposed to be back in a couple of minutes.”

The nurse nodded. “Should I go fetch you a chair, sir?”

“No. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Harry waited at the corner of the room, in silence and patience, like what had done for the last three days. Except he didn’t wait for long this time; five minutes later, they came back.

Eggsy was the first to walk in—to be walked in. He was sitting in a wheel chair, head hang low, eyes fixed on the floor under his feet—or on nothing. The tube was nowhere to be seen, but the young man looked no better than when he was unconscious; his face was still an unhealthy shade of grey, and that inanimate blank stare he had only made it worse. He seemed both tensed and defeated at the same time, and Harry wanted to yell at someone.

A nurse came in after him, followed by Merlin, the traitor who promised to inform Harry first thing after the young man woke up. Arthur was the last, that permanent dispassionate expression soldered onto his face like always. Harry could never read anything between those wrinkles, but it had never frustrated him like this before.

He took a step forward, and Eggsy snapped his head up at the sound. “Harry?” he asked, blinking blindly at the nothingness in front of him.

Even to this day, Harry still couldn’t figure out how on earththe young man managed to know it was him.

“Eggsy,” he said, and again found himself abandoned by his usual eloquence. It seemed all too…easy, to communicate with Eggsy now, after he spent so much time trying and failing to get the unconscious boy talk to him.

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat in the background, snapped Harryout of his thoughts, “it seems that you’re in good hands now, Gareth. I shall bother you no more.” He put a hand on Eggsy’s shoulder, and smiled down at the young agent. And for some reason, Harry had a feeling that the smile was meant for him rather than Eggsy. “Rest well.”

The young man didn’t flinch at the touch, but Harry saw his jaw twitched. “Yeah,” Eggsy mumbled, squirmed a bit in the wheelchair, “thanks.”

Arthur gave Eggsy’s shoulder a few pats, before straightened his back and smiled at Harry. “I can see you two have a lot to talk about. I will leave you two alone now.” he left with no other words. Harry half-expected Merlin to leave with him, but the bald man stood still at the spot with a patient look on his face, clearly wasn’t going to leave until he got whatever he wanted. Harry sighed inwardly.

“So,” began Eggsy, a smile—a real one, Harry thought, or at least he hoped it was—ghosting over his lips, “I’ve been told ye visited a lot?”

Harry shook his head at nobody. “You have been out of consciousness for quite a long time. I was beginning to considering finding myself a new apprentice.”

“Ouch,” Eggsy smiled—and it had to be real this time—“I thought ye like me, ‘Arry.”

“Not so much when you won’t talk back to me when I talked to you, I’m afraid.” Harry replied, walking towards the young man, “how are you feeling, Eggsy?”

“Like I wrestled with a rhino,” answered his protégé, tensed briefly when Harry placed one hand on his shoulder where Arthur just touched, before relaxed and practically melted into the touch. “And the rhino won.”

Eggsy was warm under the hospital gown they put him into, and the warmth permeated through the thin fabric to reach Harry’s skin, an assuring and solid heat under his palm. “I need to get you back on the bed,” Harry said instead of commenting on Eggsy’s remark, “before the nurse rush into this room and scream at me more for disturbing your rest.”

“They screamed at ye before?” Eggsy asked automatically before realizing what Harry was going to do next. He almost head-butt Harry on the jaw in shock when he lifted the young man bridal style from the wheelchair.

“Oh, ye dun ‘ave to—wait, I can—oh,” the younger man spluttered, “embarrassing.” He adjusted his new position on the bed, “am I blushing?”

Yes, he was. “No, you are not.”

“Good,” Eggsy mumbled, clenched his jaw and blushed harder, “good.”

And as if hearing the cue, the nurse came in through the door at that moment. “Mr. Unwin,” she said with a light tone, “I see that they return you at last. We need to run a few tests on you now, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Eggsy rubbed his eyebrows with his thumb, “go ‘head.”

The nurse came closer, a small flashlight in her hand. “Sir,” she asked politely, gesturing for Harry to step aside, which Harry did, but Eggsy seemed to have mistaken her word as an order for Harry to leave. “No,” he said immediately, eyes darting to their direction even though he could not see, “’Arry stay.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Then I will,” Harry opened his mouth before the nurse could correct Eggsy, “I stay here.”

The nurse’s lips curled up. “As you wish,” she answered before turned on the small flashlight, then bent down to flash the light into Eggsy’s eyes. The young man’s pupils stayed deadly still under the light. “Can you sense any light?”

Eggsy kept silent for a few moments, blinked at the ceiling. “No,” he finally said.

Harry exhaled, long and steady. He tried not to let the frustration show, but the young man somehow managed to capture his unease like bat capture sound waves.

“Dun worry, ‘Arry,” he reached out a hand to pat Harry on the arm; it could be aimed at the elbow, but turned out landing around Harry’s wrist awkwardly. “It won’t be long. I’ll be good as new in no time.”

“I have no doubt,” words rolled out of Harry’s lips automatically before he could stop them. It was more of a reflex than a genuine consent, but Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to regret when Eggsy’s face lit up at him the way he just did.

Someone cleared his throat behind them. “Harry,” Merlin touched him softly on the shoulder, Harry almost forgot he was still there, “a few words.”

Eggsy’s smile faded a bit, and Harry couldn’t help but hate Merlin for a brief second. “I’ll be right back,” he offered. Eggsy gave him a loop-sided grin, waving his hand dismissively from the bed. “Go on, dun let me keep ye from yer big boys business. Hav fun.”

Merlin led him straight out of the room, and then a little further till they reached a corner which was far out of any one’s hearing range. “We need to talk about Eggsy,” he began.

Harry straightened his back. “What’s about him?”

“Do you know he kept telling everyone his loss of sight is only temporary?”

“I wouldn’t, since nobody informed me after he woke up.”

Merlin gave him a look. “ ** _Galahad._** ”

Harry fixed his jaw.

Merlin sighed. “I was going to,” he admitted, looking down briefly, and Harry knew this is the closest thing he could get to an apology, “before Arthur stopped me. He was under the impression that you would…strongly disagree if he brought Eggsy into investigation shortly after he regained his consciousness.”

He’s correct. Damn right Harry would. “Fair enough. You say he was sure his blindness is temporary? Did any doctor offer him this information?”

“No. I think he overheard our conversation the other day,” the bald man continued on, “when I told you it _could be_ temporary.”

The thought unsettled Harry more than he allowed. It left a foul taste spreading in his mouth and something squirming at the bottom of his stomach, to imagine that Eggsy was awake the whole time he stood by his bedside, worry slowly eating him away while waiting for the young man to open his eyes. That he was awake when Harry took his hand in his own, and was also feeling the other man’s warmer palm against his cold skin the same way Harry felt.

As if having read his mind, Merlin let out a sigh. “Just keep an eye on him, Harry. This is not going to be good.”

Harry steadied himself, pushing away his thoughts.

 

“I know,” he answered tersely, “I always do.”

 

********************************

TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually tried to do Eggsy's POV, but the narrative kept running back to Harry. I don't know what happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up date!

Eggsy acted like his blindness was nothing but a split fingernail, and taking that as their cue, everybody avoided the topic like salmons hiding from shark. It was almost like all the people around Eggsy went blind—and mute—at the same time with him.

Eggsy’s recovery went on painfully slow but uneventfully, like every recovery did. Those gun shots—there were two of them—went clean through, with no bullets remaining in his body, which made the process much easier. The broken arm along with several fractured leg bones were nasty and brought about a lot of pain and awkward casts, but that was not the part Harry hated the most. It was the bruise that set him on edge like nothing else.

Those terrible bruise spread all over the right side of the young man’s torso deepened from angry red into an ugly shade of purple and black in a blink, and for a whole week Eggsy carried those horrible marks with him, a constant reminder of what happened to that body. It was a good thing he could not see, or else he would get nauseous like Harry every time he stared down. But overall, bruise was the easy part. They quickly faded away into green, then orange and yellow. After a few weeks, there were only a few traces of darker shade across his skin.

Harry spent all the time he could get in Eggsy’s ward, even when he knew Eggsy would be perfectly off in his absence, with the best health care offered in the city and a whole room of nurses just dying to mother this broken, handsome young man.

Roxanne also spent a lot of time here in the ward with her colleague and best friend. It was not easy for both of them, since Harry was taking the lead in the investigation while Roxanne being the only (up and about) witness—their schedule was dreadful, at best.

On the third day after Eggsy woke up, Harry managed to talk Merlin into taking some of his job. There was not much persuasion involved, since the bald man took the job with no protest but a curt nod after a few seconds thinking. Harry was, for the most part, grateful, but also a bit suspicious.His friend could keep a straight poker face if he wanted to, so Harry could not tell if it was Merlin being nice, or Merlin being planning secretly to throw a laptop at Harry’s face next time they crossed path.

Harry reached Eggsy’s ward, and was about to knock when he realized his protégé was not alone in the room.

He could hear someone talking fast in the room, but couldn’t make out the exact words. The conversation became clearer when the voice rose, and that’s when Harry recognized Lancelot’s voice. There seemed to be a small argument going on between those two young agents.

“…esn’t matter. Nothing changed. You should give it to him.”

A huff of dry laugh. “I dun mean to be rude ‘ere, Rox, but **_are ye out of yer friggin’ mind_**?”

“What? You were going to. After everything we’ve planned—”

“Tha’ was before.”

“Before what, exactly? Have you changed your mind?”

“No! I didn’t—”

An annoyed sigh. “Then give it to him!”

“I can’t. S’ not ‘bout me.”

“Then who’s this about?”

“Nobody. Just drop it. I mean it, Rox,” Harry could almost hear Eggsy’s frown, “DORP IT.”

A long silence. “You’re hopeless. I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Then dun talk to me!” the young man suddenly snapped, “nobody asked ye to! S’ none of yer business anyway.”

Harry stepped back just in time to avoid the door slamming into his face. Roxanne stormed out of the room, eyes widened briefly upon seeing Harry outside, but the fleeting surprise quickly replaced by narrow-eye anger. She gave Harry a foul look, like he’s somehow responsible for all the shite she had to go through. “Galahad,” she greeted him through her teeth, like it was a curse. Harry nodded at her. “Lancelot.”

The girl pushed past him, stamped down the aisle with no other word, and Harry waited for a few seconds before walked into the room.

Eggsy was half-sitting on the bed, hands balled into fists on his knees, a deep frown carved between his eyebrows. He looked up in confusion upon hearing Harry’s footstep, but it didn’t take long before his newly-developed hyper sense kicked in. “Harry?”

“Yes,” Harry came closer, sitting down on the chair just vacated by the other agent, “is everything all right? I ran into Lancelot outside. She seemed to be…agitated.”

“Yeah. S’ nothing. We’re cool.” Eggsy quickly said, unclenched his fist, “just a matter we don’t see eye to eye on.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t happen a lot.”

“Ye dun say,” Eggsy huffed, “it’s just…she doesn’t understand. Anyway,” he straightened up a bit, put on a joyful smile. “How’s your day?”

“Busy,” Harry answered automatically, and regretted it immediately when the smile on Eggsy’s face stiffened. “Ye know ye dun ‘ave to come, yeah?” Eggsy asked, blinking at his hand, “I’m alright ‘ere. If yer busy—”

“Nonsense,” Harry cut him off, “I’m perfectly capable of arranging my time. And after a whole day of working with people even older than me, I could use a break.”

The smile came back. “Yer not old,” Eggsy promised him, “just old-fashioned.”

“Thank you. And how’s your day?”

“Boring. Oh, Percival came earlier today,” Eggsy told him, “n’ he brought me this.” He reached over to the nightstand beside his bed, fumbling for a few seconds before sitting back with something small and square in his hand.

It was a book. Harry frowned.

“It’s in braille,” Eggsy said calmly, “sweet fella. I like ‘im.” He didn’t give Harry any chance to continue on the topic, though. “How’s the investigation?”

“Going on,” Harry admitted, “but we are not making much progress. There’s little we can work on. Lancelot has been of great help, but her information is also limited, I’m afraid.”

Eggsy kept his mouth shut for a few minutes. “How come the lady’s always invited while I’m not?” he suddenly asked, trying to hide the bitterness in his tone by fumbling through the pages, “M’ also in tha’ attack, so you know. I saw his face.”

The frown on Harry’s face deepened. “Whose face?”

Eggsy went stiff, fingers hanging in the air. “The man who shot me,” he said after a few seconds, “Arthur told me ye believe he’s the beta, the one who took orders directly from whoever behind the attack. I saw his face.”

Harry had his doubt, but he never told anyone about it, and certainly not Arthur. “Roxanne is already helping us work up a profile.”

“Rox didn’t SEE him,”Eggsy frowned, snapped the book close, fingers curled into fist atop his knees, “I did. I fought the bastard, before he shot me. But I guess it doesn’t matter when yer blind, and couldn’t recognize the face even when they shove the photo right under yer nose.”

“Eggsy—”

“No. ‘S fine.” Eggsy tossed the book aside, “I get it.” He leaned back against the pillow, staring up blindly at the ceiling, “I get it, ‘Arry. ‘S fine.I’m just…let’s not talk ‘bout it.” He turned his head towards Harry’s direction, “I dun want to argue now.” He adjusted his position, “how long can ye stay this time?”

Harry began to smile. “A couple of hours.”

Eggsy’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “That long?”

“We are running through surveillance tapes. It could take hours. Merlin can handle it, and there’s a whole tech group with him, so not much help I can be of anyway.”

“Joy,”Eggsy smiled back, whole face lit up at his words, “we can catch a movie, then.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously. “Eggsy,” he began.

“I know, I know,” Eggsy cut him off before he could continue, rolling his eyes at the ceiling—it was difficult to keep in mind that Eggsy was blind when he kept doing that—“I canno’ see. Pick one from the Bond movies, then. I had watched that for like, a trillion times. It makes no difference whether I see the scene or not. My hearing ‘s just fine. C’mon, I’ll even let ye pick witch one!”

“Sounds good to me,” Harry reminded him, “but you’re not allowed out of bed yet.”

“Nah, we do it ‘ere,” Eggsy grinned, “I stole a digital pad from some doctor the other day. I hid it in the nightstand drawer.”

“You stole a digital pad when you ** _cannot see_**?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m damn good. Now shut up. Ye want to pick the movie or not?”

****************************

The first few weeks were busy, but uneventful.

Eggsy sulked on an acceptable level for being constrained within the ward, working through his rehabilitation, complaining about food, and sulked some more. He began to show restlessness after the first few days, and was agitated from time to time from what the doctor told him, but he seemed calm whenever Harry visited him; polite and controlled, even a little withdrawn. Harry was not sure if it was a good thing or the otherwise.

Good news was that Roxanne was not mad at Eggsy anymore. Whatever the problem between those two was, they seemed to have worked it out peacefully in secret. She was still a little sore, but came back to visit Eggsy after a few days of silent treatment.Harry knew she couldn’t hold up her rage for long; nobody could. Eggsy had this peculiar ability to evoke soft spots from people.

It was rare to have more than three visitors in Eggsy’s room at one time, but somehow Merlin and Roxanne both managed to show up in the ward when Harry came by for a short visit, and they were joined by Percival—surprise surprise—after a few minutes.

Eggsy was being confused, Harry could tell form the way he kept playing with his fingers.The conversation was mostly led by Roxanne and Eggsy, with three older men sitting around like some kind of supervisor. Harry considered leaving for a brief second, but decided otherwise since with his schedule, he was not sure when the next time he could come here.

Eggsy said something about hospital gowns, Harry was not paying attention, but Roxanne shook her head in compassion. “I can go pick up some of your belongings from your house,” she volunteered, “bring you some clothes to change.”

“Yeah, about that,” Eggsy drawled, licking his bottom lip quickly, “S’ better if ye don’t.”

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Cuz I kinda of told my mum I’m on a business trip a week ago?” the young man had the decency to squirm a bit in shame, “there was certainly going to be some awkwardness if she happens to find ye packing up underwear for me in my bedroom.”

Everyone turned to stare at him. “You told your mother you had a business trip,” Percival repeated, “when she believes you’re a **_tailor_**?”

“I know.” Eggsy mumbled, rubbing eyebrows with his thumb absently, “she didn’t buy my shite, though. But then again, she hadn’t bought any of my shites for a long time.”

“Then why did you **_lie_**?”

“What do ye think,” the young man answered matter-of-factly, with a quietly resigned kind of calmness, “s’ not like I can just show up on the porch, told she n’ my sister I’m blind, ‘cause of what? A customer elbowed me in the eye?”

His undertone was desperate enough to put everyone into silence.

“But,” Roxanne tried after a few seconds, “where are you going to stay? You cannot hide in HQ forever.”

“It doesn’t ‘ave to be forever,” Eggsy quickly argued, lips pressed into a thin line, “just until I regained my eye si—”

“He stay with me.”

Everyone snapped their attentions at Harry the second those words hit the air. Everyone except for Eggsy, who did nothing to show he even heard the announcement, simply staring straight ahead into the nothingness in front of him, lips pressed together into a thin line. It was understandable, since there’s no need to turn your head when you couldn’t see, yet this lack of reaction unnerved Harry the way he never thought it could do. He cleared his throat. “Eggsy can stay with me after he’s relieved.”

It was almost hilarious to see how everyone’s eyes silently darting between him and Eggsy like there’s a tennis match going on. Harry would’ve found it amusing if he was not too occupied waiting for an answer.

Eggsy opened his mouth. “Harry once, Harry twice,” he said seriously, face solemn, “is there no other bid?” he tilted his head in fake expectation, then“sold!” He finally turned his head to Harry, an almost genuine smile tugged at his lips. “It seems m’ all yers, ‘Arry.”

Harry stared at him, and Eggsy stared back. Harry knew Eggsy was not actually, SEEING, him, but at this moment, he was not sure about that anymore. Eggsy was looking him right into the eye, and there was nothing even remotely blind in those clear eyes. And how come Eggsy always knew exactly where Harry was? He hardly talked, or made any noise during the visit.

Harry reached out a hand. It landed on Eggsy’s shoulder and stayed there, like he was trying to affirm something, but not for long. Eggsy patted on the back of his hand once, then shrugged out of his touch inconspicuously. “Where is Gawain?” the boy asked, looking away with a grin, “the bastard promised to visit me today and bring me chips!”

Harry took back his hand after Roxanne assured Eggsy here would be no chips allowed in this room until doctor gave him an official permission. The topic quickly diverted to the definition of a healthy diet, and the unspeakable tension brooding in the air was gone.

Harry was not fooled by the lightness in Eggsy’s tone.

It had happened a lot lately. Eggsy had been flirting shamelessly with him for about half a year before the attack; he still did, but whenever Harry tried to play alone, the boy closed into himself in an instant like an oyster.

But it was okay. He could figure that out later. Harry still had chances. There were going to be plenty of them, actually—

 

They’re going to live together, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. They are going to live together.


End file.
